NEWPORT'S GILDED AGE MANSIONS PROVIDE NARRATIVE TO WOMEN'S SUFFRAGE
90th Anniversary of 19th Amendment Celebrated at Marble House

by Karen Rubin

The narrative of the Gilded Age mansions of Newport, Rhode Island, typically revolves around the Captains of Industry who harnessed or financed new technology to unleash an American economic boom, turned the United States into the leading world power, and in the process, amassed unimaginable wealth and power for themselves.

They built these incredible monuments as a clear statement of their wealth and prestige and used them as staging areas for deals-making and to forge relationships. In an era before labor unions, income tax, anti-trust laws and open-admissions, this is how an American aristocracy was being forged.

During my recent visit, though, I became captivated by the story of the Women of Newport, especially since this year marks the 90th anniversary of Women's Suffrage.

Newport, Rhode Island marked the anniversary of Women's Suffrage in August - centered at Marble House, one of the fabulous Gilded Age mansions that line Bellevue Avenue.

A 1914 suffrage rally at Marble House (credit: The Preservation Society of Newport County).

Indeed, Marble House, built and owned by the formidable pioneering feminist Alva Vanderbilt Belmont played a key role toward the ultimate success in women winning the right to vote after decades of struggle.

It was Alva Vanderbilt Belmont's dramatic back story that unfolds as you tour the summer "cottage," Marble House, that sparked my musings.

I knew virtually nothing of Alva Vanderbilt Belmont and her role in winning the right to vote for women until I stepped across the threshold at Marble House.

She emerges as this intensely complex character who inspires both derision and admiration. The house she built is both a symbol of the limitations and constriction that had been placed on women, as well as an instrument to liberation.

As much as she craved independence for herself, she also seems to have been an oppressively domineering mother - ironically because in her time, she believed that though marriage was the singular path to her daughter's wealth and power, and therefore her independence.

She must have been a real pistol - cold, calculating, manipulative. I begin to sense that this is what happens when you cage a lion.

So the question that arises in my mind: if Alva had grown up with the freedom to go as far as her talents and intellect and character could take her that she won for future generations of women, would she have been so domineering over her daughter, Consuelo, and so cruel to her husband, William Kassim Vanderbilt?

My thoughts develop as I visit a succession of the historic mansion homes that line tony Bellevue Avenue, built during that astonishing era known as the Gilded Age, a time of the Robber Barons who unleashed and took full advantage of the Industrial Revolution that turned America into a leading world economic power.

What triggers these musings, I realize, is the way the tours of the historic houses are organized: fewer docent-led guided tours which focus on the architecture, art and history, and more self-guided audio tours which incorporate the actual voices, commentary, narrated portions of memoir from people connected to the house, music and sound effects that transport you to that time and create a context in your mind's eye.

You listen can hear Gladys Vanderbilt, daughter of Cornelius who built The Breakers, describe her childhood; you hear passages from Consuelo Vanderbilt's memoirs about her driven mother, Alva, and how she missed being with her father; and the crackling voice of an old woman recalling what it was like to play at the house as a child.

You also learn from relatives the servants who worked behind panels and screens, in the kitchens, cellars and grounds about what their lives were like, and on and on.

There is fascinating commentary by experts who discuss the art, architecture and social history. Importantly, you can visit at your own pace; linger and click on an entry for more detail on a subject.

At The Elms, the summer "cottage" built by coal magnate Edward J. Berwind, you learn how "Newport was defined and maintained by women at a time when women had no power in business" © 2010 Karen Rubin/news-photos-features.com.

Instead of taking the "human element" - the docent - out of the experience, the change to audio tapes actually personalizes the visit and makes it more interactive - you can better appreciate the "builders" for the people they were and the life they led. And so, instead of being a passive observer, the commentary spurs an intellectual exchange in your head.

And for me, it was the Women of Newport.

You learn, for example, that "Newport was defined and maintained by women at a time when women had no power in business."

These fabulous mansions were meant to be steppingstones and launching pads to the wheeling-and-dealing of the Captains of Industry and Finance, and it was the women who organized the social interactions. Women like Alva were furiously arranging social engagements designed to catapult the family into the ranks of "The 400," the most elite in the country.

While you at first envy these women from the richest families in America, "The 400" (the number of people Lady Astor's ballroom could accommodate), believing they had the money and privilege to do whatever they liked, you also begin to pity how constricted the women were. Hardly fancy free, their days were crammed and calculated - tennis in the morning, a luncheon party, polo in the afternoon, a parade of carriages, dinner party.

The women would have to organize and change their outfits as much as eight times a day, spend hours planning parties, menus, seating plans (you would need to remember who sat next to who at the last dinner party), writing correspondence, receiving visitors or returning visits (not polite to stay longer than 30 minutes) and managing staff.

And they did all of this because it was the only opportunity they had to manage and organize and control anything - business and politics was out.

They managed vast budgets. At The Elms, we learn, $300,000 was spent on a season's entertaining - that's just 8-12 weeks (at a time when $300,000 was more like $3 million).

They managed battalions of servants - 43 of them at the Elms. Females were not allowed to be seen - they were kept to the backrooms, backstairs and out of view. The men served, the women cleaned. And when you hear the commentary of staff (many of whom I gather were immigrants), you sense they were awed by these rich and powerful people and had no sense of an American Dream that they might pursue. Instead, they had the idea that the Vanderbilts and the rest of elite were improving society. They would gossip in the kitchen, go to a separate beach on their days off.

My odyssey through the Women's Movement starts at The Elms and The Breakers (probably the most famous and ostentatious of all the mansions), though I could have almost any of the grand mansions along Bellevue, climaxes in illumination at Alva Vanderbilt's Marble House, and culminates, appropriately, at the end of the Avenue at Doris Duke's Rough Point.

The Elms: Lady of the House

My personal journey of discovery began at The Elms, which set the stage for the revelations that would follow.

An elegant French-style chateau, a copy of the Château d'Asnières near Paris, was built in 1901 for Philadelphia coal magnate Edward J. Berwind - who with his Navy contracts and dealings with J.P. Morgan was reputed to control more coal operations than anyone in the world. He also was viewed as a " hard-driving businessman. He refused to bargain with employees, and his mines were the last bastions of the open shop in the coal fields."

He amassed a fortune of $31 million, at a time before income tax (about $600 million today) and spent $1.4 million ($22 million in today's money) to build The Elms, which was only used 8-12 weeks of the year, to entertain other Captains of Industry, the movers and shakers who controlled political power.

In 1901, he installed all the state of the art technology - it was the first house in Newport to be electrified - he had his own generator and circuit breaker. "Some called it a 'passing fad. Berwind loved it, loved new things."

The Breakers reflects Cornelius Vanderbilt's vision of himself as a Captain of Industry leading America as a world economic power; for women, the way to achieve power was through an advantageous marriage © 2010 Karen Rubin/news-photos-features.com.

I find The Elms among the most beautiful of these "summer cottages", - not as ostentatiously, in-your-face opulent. But here, you get an excellent foundation for understand the social mores of the time, and women's roles.

"It was a place for entertaining.. to receive the world."

The New York Times of August 31, 1901 hailed, "Mr. and Mrs. Edward J. Berwind's ball, long expected and, elaborately prepared as a 'house warming' for their new villa on Bellevue Avenue, took place to-night. Previous entertainments of this season may have rivaled it in details, but none has been more artistic, none so largely attended, and none so conspicuous for lavish expenditure of money."

But his wife, Sarah, died and his sister, Julia A. Burwind, took over to manage the house.

You come to the bedroom of the lady of the house, typically larger than that for the husband (though). The lady's boudoir, you realize, was a command center, from which she managed parties, arranged menus and seating plans (you needed to keep track of who sat next to whom at previous parties), and the day's social calendar.

On a desk, would be the schedule: tennis, golf, polo, yachting - each activity had a different set of clothes: a morning dress, luncheon, tea dresses, outing dress, plus gloves, parasoles, shoes for each outfit. They would change 4-7 times a day.

There would be a telephone in the bedroom which was used as an intercom to summon servants and monitor staff calls - there was no need to actually call outside. "To telephone to the outside world was considered impolite. It was more proper to write a letter, and hand deliver."

"Life was ritualized. Every day, every minute was scheduled, there was no free time. You were supposed to leave one afternoon a week to stay home to receive callers. Guests should not stay longer than 30 minus. Each caller left a card and now must be visited in return."

You come to the ballroom, "The ultimate room for entertaining - whole room seemed to swirl," in the language of the audio tour. In the course of a season, the Berwinds would have spent $300,000 on entertaining, such as on an eight-course dinner served to 400 people.

At the Elms, you also get a sense of the different class structures of the servants who ran the house, as you go to the back-of-the-house, where you see tile everywhere - more easily cleaned and hygienic.

"Running the house is 'domestic science'."

The Breakers: Dollar Princesses

Next stop, the Breakers, built in 1895 by Cornelius Vanderbilt, the grandson of Cornelius "Commodore" Vanderbilt. The Commodore is the one who established the family's fortune from nothing by creating the transportation systems - railroads, steamships - that carried the commerce of America's Industrial Revolution.

This house is very much an expression of Cornelius' vision - the art and architecture, the stunning gilded and sculpted details are an expression of who he was or who he wanted to be. You see medallions of classical cherubim with a railroad - the imagery of the classical world combined with technology of new.

The mansion - actually a summer "cottage" - was immense: 70 rooms, 300 windows, 750 doorknobs, 138,300 sq. ft. - a scale to reflect the expanse of American life and its emergence as the biggest economy on earth.

These Captains of Industry, these movers and shakers, were the ones who made that possible.

Cornelius Vanderbilt's The Breakers was an emblem of the Gilded Age. The 1913 passage of the income tax made it hard for even the richest to keep up the houses, but paved the way for social mobility, including women's rights © 2010 Karen Rubin/news-photos-features.com.

They used these "summer cottages" to cement their relationships, their power-networking, with one another.

The Breakers incorporates Beaux Arts and Victorian elements and features rare marbles and gilded rooms (the gilt is 22K gold and some is actually gilded in platinum gold), a 50-foot high Great Hall, mosaic tile floors and ceilings, arcades and open-air loggias with commanding views of the Atlantic Ocean.

In this house, the women took on conventional roles of the time.

Here, too, you learn of the regimented life of the ladies, the demanding schedule and their obsession with clothes. "Dressing was an important part of their identity."

You visit the bedroom of Gertrude Vanderbilt, another of Cornelius II's daughters, where you see her portrait at age 5. She was 19 years old when she first stayed at the Breakers, and describes in her memoir her revelation, "I am an heiress. When I first realized this, I was terribly unhappy. I wanted people to want me for myself."

Here we learn, though, of the glimmerings of "the New Woman" and the movement, in the early 1900s for personal liberation.

"She wanted to be an artist, which was not a typical role. It came to her in a dream.She took sculpture lessons, and set up studio in Greenwich Village and Paris."

She married Harry Payne Whitney, who had own fortune, became a renowned sculptor and founded Whitney Museum of Art. (Her room is one of my favorite of the rooms because there are many photos, portraits, photos of her sculpture).

Part of the audio tour is narrated by Gladys, the Vanderbilt's daughter, who had her "debut" to society here. As was the custom of the time, these American heiresses were raised to marry European royalty in order to attain the title and prestige: Gladys became a Hungarian countess in1908; she inherited Breakers 1934.

You can listen to Gladys talk about her growing up. "My parents were shockingly lax," she says "I could read any book on Sunday."

Her daughter, Sylvia Széchenyi married a Hungarian Count, and her daughter, Ferdinandine Szechenyi, relates how she was quarantined in a bedroom for six weeks with whooping cough, and the lesson ingrained in her, "To much is given, much is expected." She spent "the Last Golden Summer" at the Breakers, in 1937, before it was closed, where she was presented to Society.

She likely walked down a grand staircase, designed so the steps would be two-inches shorter than usual, so the young debutantes could be presented without fear of tripping on their gowns.

Magda, who was the 10-year daughter of a servant at the time, was allowed to have a peek. You listen as Magda, now an old woman, says, "I thought I was in a fairyland. I must have dreamed it. All night long I was a fairy princess dancing in these gowns.""

Helen Buberg, who was six years old when her mother was a cook at the Breakers, describes living in a small, hot garret, with a porthole for a window and a hard wooden bed with no mattress springs.

Alva Vanderbilt Belmont reopened Marble House to stage Women's Suffrage rallies, here on the back lawn © 2010 Karen Rubin/news-photos-features.com.

Speaking still with an Irish accent as an old woman, she relates, "In the 1920s, I was one of 6or 7 children at the back staircase. We could look in but not touch. It was a joyous time, a tough time We made the best of it."

In "A Chambermaid's day," you listen to Pat Coleman, talk about her mother Nora Cavanaugh Fairfield, a chambermaid in the 1920s "Sheets were changed twice day,they took more than one bath a day. The laundry generated. We were told to stay out of the way of the family - but be available on a moment's notice. My mother loved her job. She thought the Vanderbilts contributed to the growth of society."

I come away unable to comprehend how they could build a house with 22-carat gilding, design a special staircase so the young ladies could glide down, yet they packed the servants into garrets without windows for air and on hard wooden beds without springs. I can't get over people who spend any amounts of money on every detail of decoration, and don't provide minimal comfort for their servants.

The Newport mansions like the Breakers were not universally celebrated. Many condemned their obscene opulence. In 1907, Henry James declared the grand Newport mansions "a white elephant - beautiful but useless." Another criticized the "bad architecture," and "tasteless vulgarity."

Mark Twain coined the expression "Gilded Age" - a term to connote that underneath shiny, gilded surface was undercurrent of social inequality It began to unravel in 1913, with the imposition of income tax and the end to easy and endless fortunes.

By 1944, most of the mansions were closed, and converted to apartments or schools or demolished. Life Magazine noted that they could not survive "the passing of the Gilded Age, two wars, high income taxes, and shortage of servants.

For information about visiting The Breakers, Chateau-sur-Mer, Chepstow, The Elms, Green Animals Topiary Garden, Hunter House, Isaac Bell House, Kingscote, Marble House, and Rosecliff, contact The Preservation Society of Newport County, 424 Bellevue Avenue, Newport, RI 02840, 401-847-1000, www.NewportMansions.org. The Preservation Society offers a variety of ticket packages (tickets.newportmansions.org) to fit your schedule and interests, as well as tickets for special tours offered at various times during the year. Youth tickets are valid for children 6-17. Children under 6 are admitted free. No reservations are required except where specifically noted. Tickets have no expiration date and may be used at any time.

For information and help arranging a visit, contact Newport & Bristol County Convention & Visitors Bureau, 23 America's Cup Avenue, Newport, RI 02840, 800-976-5122, www.gonewport.com

Next:
WOMEN OF NEWPORT: GILDED AGE MANSIONS OFFER
ODYSSEY INTO UNDERSTANDING WOMEN'S SUFFRAGE
Women of Newport: Alva Vanderbilt Belmont turns Marble House into Weapon for Feminism

Friday, 27 August, 2010